The days of training were grueling. Kairo's progress in Zetsu was steady, but far from perfect. Roderick, as usual, pushed him to the edge of his endurance, showing no leniency or encouragement. Kairo had long since stopped expecting praise. His only focus was to become better—to master his ability and adapt to whatever came next.
Roderick's exercises were ruthless. The first one involved controlled aura suppression—a task that seemed simple but was deceptively difficult. Kairo was instructed to walk across the training hall, a spacious and open room with harsh fluorescent lights, without alerting Roderick's presence. It was a task of endurance and subtlety.
"Suppress your aura completely," Roderick's voice echoed through the room. "Walk, breathe, think, but keep your presence hidden."
Kairo stood still for a moment, focusing inward. He had learned that Zetsu wasn't about force, but about letting go. The key was to let the energy withdraw, drawing it back into himself until it barely existed at all. Slowly, he took his first step. He felt the air shift around him, his presence becoming lighter, quieter. His movements were fluid, controlled—but there was an ever-present tension in his body, waiting for any sign of failure.
As he took each step, his mind raced, focusing on keeping his aura undetectable. Each breath was calculated, slow, deliberate. With every passing second, he felt himself merging with the stillness, becoming invisible to the world around him. Roderick didn't speak, but Kairo could feel the instructor's scrutinizing gaze, watching every step, every movement.
It was hours before Kairo reached the other side of the room. He hadn't heard Roderick move. His steps had been careful, and his aura was still contracted, almost nonexistent. He knew he hadn't failed—but the test wasn't over yet. Roderick's voice broke the silence.
"Good. But now, you need to do this under pressure."
Kairo turned to find Roderick standing still, a cold expression on his face. "You're going to hide now. You have ten minutes before I start looking. Do not get caught."
Kairo nodded, swallowing the dry lump that had formed in his throat. He had learned to trust his instincts, but being hunted was different. This time, the stakes felt much higher. The training exercise had escalated.
Without waiting for further instructions, Kairo dropped into a low crouch and moved swiftly to the far corner of the room. His mind raced as he activated Zetsu, withdrawing his aura completely. Every muscle in his body was tense as he merged with the shadows, attempting to become as invisible as possible.
Minutes passed in silence. The only sound was the faint scuff of his own breath and the soft rustle of his clothes. His heart raced, but he focused on keeping still—keeping his aura sealed, his presence nonexistent.
He felt Roderick's eyes on him. The older man's aura, a constant, oppressive presence, filled the space with a weight Kairo had long learned to sense. Roderick wasn't just watching; he was hunting.
Kairo's breathing became shallow as he crouched lower, hiding deeper within the corner. He'd made it this far, and he couldn't afford to slip now. He had to win.
And yet, in the back of his mind, a gnawing feeling of doubt lingered. Roderick's silence was unsettling. He hadn't moved yet, not a single sound came from his direction. It was almost too quiet.
The minutes stretched endlessly.
Finally, just as Kairo thought he might escape, he heard it—the faintest sound of footsteps, deliberately slow, but unmistakably coming closer. Kairo's heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively held his breath.
The footsteps grew louder, and then—silence. Roderick had stopped, but Kairo couldn't sense where. He held his position, his thoughts spiraling, nerves tightening. What if he was already found?
And then—
The sound of footsteps resumed, but this time they came straight toward him.
Kairo's stomach twisted. He realized too late what had happened. In the middle of trying to suppress his aura, he'd let his guard down. His presence had flickered for just a split second, and Roderick had spotted it.
The moment Kairo's presence was detected, Roderick's sharp gaze locked onto him, a cold smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Found you," Roderick said softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Kairo stood up, his heart sinking. He hadn't just failed; he had been outsmarted.
Roderick's eyes bored into him with cold precision. "You thought you were clever, didn't you? Letting your guard down, thinking you could slip away."
Kairo's fists clenched at his sides, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He hadn't just failed to hide his aura—he had underestimated Roderick's ability to sense his presence, even when he thought he was invisible.
"You thought you did well, didn't you?" Roderick continued, his voice low and calm. "That's exactly why I let you succeed in the first exercise. To make you complacent, to make you believe you had mastered Zetsu. I wanted you to fail today. I wanted you to see how easy it is to make mistakes when you think you've won."
Kairo's chest tightened, a mixture of anger and shame flooding through him. He had been so focused on his own strategy that he hadn't considered the deeper layers of Roderick's tactics.
"And now," Roderick said, his voice almost a whisper, "you'll face the consequences."
Kairo braced himself, but Roderick didn't strike him physically. Instead, the instructor's aura flared, and Kairo felt the sharp sting of a Nen-infused shock, radiating through his body. The pain was overwhelming, sending him to his knees with a gasp.
"I told you. Perfection is the goal," Roderick said, his tone still cold and detached. "You failed. And that's your punishment."
Kairo's head spun with the intensity of the pain, but he forced himself to stand. His mind raced, burning with resentment. The facility, the experiments, the relentless training—everything that had brought him here, everything that had made him weak in the eyes of those in power, rushed to the surface.
As the shock subsided, Kairo looked up at Roderick, his eyes cold with determination.
"I'll never make the same mistake again," Kairo said through gritted teeth, his voice filled with a quiet resolve.
Roderick didn't respond. He turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps echoing coldly behind him. "We'll see."
Kairo stayed there, his body aching from the shock, his mind still reeling. He realized, bitterly, that Roderick had been right. He was small—just a frog in a well, trying to survive a world that was far too large for him to understand.
But this mistake would be his last.